Being Alone Can Lead You To Dark Places
by Cracked silver
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is sick and tired of being ignored; tired of being treated like a freak because he's a fan of the darker aspects of magic. What has he done that was worse than anyone else? Every other country has fought in wars and committed sins. Well, he's going to fix this little problem...Credit for anime goes to Hidekazu Himaruya.


**Okay, I know this isn't an update for Two Worlds One Family, though I'm not sure if anyone actually cares about that, but I wrote this for one of my friends and she dared me to post it, so I did. So, this is pretty angst-y, just a warning. This is also my first Hetalia fic, so sorry if it sucks. Haha. Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

Arthur paced his room restlessly, wondering if this unbearable pain, wondered naively if he would ever cease to feel this rather annoying pain. It had been like this for a few weeks now. Every morning he would wake up and consider his options. He could make a delicious breakfast…for _one_. Or maybe he would make some soothing tea…_alone_. Perhaps he could go for a walk…by _himself_. Then he would sigh and stare at the ceiling for a good while, questioning if it was actually worth it. After all, the simple fact of the matter was that he would always be alone. No matter how hard he tried, the other Nations would just stare at him as if he were wearing bright purple tights. So he didn't like exquisitely prepared food that was just bursting with flavor. And he was fond of the darker aspects of magic. And he may not be as social as others would like him to be, but what did any of that matter? Did those simple qualities –or flaws as the other Nations seemed to believe- really make him an outcast in the eyes of others?

Arthur growled in frustration and stopped in front of an ornate mirror, gazing at his reflection with an expression of mild distaste. Perhaps it was his appearance that caused others to be weary of him? No, that couldn't be it. Yes, his eyebrows were a _bit _thick (or bushy, depending on one's perspective), but he didn't look frightening! He certainly wasn't Ivan! After giving his reflection a smoldering look, he resumed his pacing, growing angrier by the second. It simply wasn't fair! What had he done to receive such treatment? What sin had he committed to deserve this isolation? He had indeed fought in wars, but so had all the other Nations! He sighed and stopped pacing, mentally kicking himself. Pacing furiously and going over these thoughts wasn't doing him any good. None whatsoever. He sat in the window seat and rested his head against the cool glass, closing his eyes. What was the point? None of this was going to help him make friends, nor was it going to help him get the friends he had lost back. Everyone he had made a treaty with had decided they no longer needed him and had, for lack of a better way to state this, broken things off. His own younger brother had turned against him, and they had fought in a war.

Arthur bit his lip, irritated that he dared to shed tears. After all that he'd done in his life, did he deserve to do something as _human _as crying? He furiously wiped his eyes, forcing himself to stand. It was time to take action. He would show the others the monster they believed him to be. He had obviously done so many other terrible things, what was one more crime? It's not like anyone would have the decency to pretend to be shocked. He nodded to himself, enjoying the exhilaration that coursed through his veins, replacing the numb feeling with the first burst of energy he'd felt in months. He tipped his head back and laughed, fully aware that he was scaring anyone who happened to be in his mansion, but who would be here? He was, after all, an insane madman who dabbled in the dark arts. Even the friends only he could see had left him, so there was absolutely no one left to judge him! Chuckling to himself, he grabbed his coat, throwing it over his arm as he made his way downstairs. A plan such as this had to be planned out carefully, each detail meticulously thought over before he could put it into action. Besides, he had to get to the conference, where all the Nations of the world would meet to discuss problems that wouldn't actually get solved. It was a complete waste of time, really. But he didn't have any reason to _not _attend the meeting, so he left the sanctuary of his home and hailed a taxi. After climbing in, he gave the driver directions and rested against the not-so-comfy material of the seat. He could've driven, of course, but he wasn't sure that was the best course of action. He wasn't entirely focused on what was going on around him. Driving himself to the meeting could result in a massive wreck, and he wasn't ready to die yet, nor was he ready to kill innocent people. He wasn't _that _sick and twisted.

After an awkward drive that seemed to go on for ages, but in reality only lasted about twenty minutes, the cabbie pulled up outside the building where the Nations held their conferences. After handing the chap a couple of crumpled bills, curtesy of a birthday card he had received from Alfred, his ex-friend, he headed inside.

When he entered the room where the Nations _attempted _to solve their problems, he found that things were proceeding as usual.

Ludwig was demanding that everyone else be quiet and listen to him, as he was the only one who knew how to run a meeting properly; Gilbert was standing on his chair, reciting a speech that proved how awesome he was; a fellow that resembled Alfred was sitting in the corner of the room, unnoticed by the other occupants of the room; Feliciano was muttering about pasta and staring at Ludwig with the utmost adoration; Alfred was standing on the table, rambling on about how he was the hero and that he was here to save the day. All in all, it was just another meeting for the Nations.

Arthur took his seat and immediately zoned out. No one cared much for his opinion, so he didn't see the point in paying attention. As the other Nations ''discussed'' issues, Arthur leaned back in his chair and thought about all the ways he could put his plan into action. He could make it a messy affair, but that would make things rather difficult to clean up afterwards. Or maybe he could slip something into everyone's drinks and torture them for hours on end. After all, they had been torturing him with words and actions for _years_.

''_You know what they say._'' He thought, grinning slightly. ''_An eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth._''

As he considered all the wonderfully cruel possibilities, he didn't notice all the other Nations staring at him. He also didn't notice Alfred attempting to get his attention.

''Hello?'' Alfred asked, waving a hand in front of Arthur's face. ''Iggy? Earth to Iggy! You in there?''

The use of his extremely infuriating nickname snapped Arthur out of his daze, and he glared at Alfred, a look of annoyance distorting his normally handsome features.

''I've told you a million times! I don't like being addressed that way! Now, what do you want?'' Arthur snapped, too incensed to care about the looks of shock and disapproval that were being directed his way.

Alfred arched an eyebrow, his blue eyes gazing at Arthur with a hurt expression. Arthur didn't normally yell at him with such vehemence. True, he _did _yell at Alfred, but it was with a touch of affection. He cleared his throat and looked down.

''I was just going to ask what you thought about a peace treaty between Ludwig and Lovino. You don't have to bite my head off.'' Alfred muttered, sitting back down in his chair.

Arthur looked down guiltily. He hadn't meant to hurt Alfred's feelings. Then he remembered why he was so upset. He remembered that fateful day…the day Alfred had declared his independence from him…basically leaving him alone. He looked up, glaring in the direction of Ludwig and Lovino.

''It's a ridiculous idea. I don't understand why you're going through the trouble of asking. Lovino can't go a day without calling Ludwig a potato bastard. I don't know where you got the silly idea that they could possibly get along.'' He stated coolly, standing up. Attending this meeting had been a stupid idea. He didn't know why the other Nations even bothered with the trouble of getting together. They were just going to argue for a few hours and then leave. What was the point? He stormed out of the room, making sure to slam the door on his way out. He didn't care if he was acting like an inconsiderate brat. He was sick of the meetings; he was sick of constantly being ignored by the others; he was sick of having to put on a brave face. He was sick and tired of _everything_.

He headed outside and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. He was such a fucking idiot. Now the other Nations would suspect something and would be watching him carefully, especially Alfred. This thought only angered Arthur further as it reminded him that Alfred had abandoned him, but for whatever unfathomable reason now thought he should take care of his former elder brother. Smiling bitterly, Arthur walked down the steps and started the long walk home. It was a thirty minute walk home, but Arthur could really care less at the moment. He just needed to be alone for now. Laughing sadly, he shook his head and kept walking. Alone as always. That's how it would always be.

Arthur did not go home that night. He went to the local pub, determined to drink his sorrows away.

After downing three classes of beer (he wasn't feeling particularly picky tonight) he allowed his eyes to wander the bar, hoping to see someone that would help him forget his troubles, just for the night. He preferred men, but at the moment, anyone would do. His eyes landed on a tall fellow with black hair and bright hazel eyes. He was cute and, if the five glasses in front of him were anything to go off of, he was also on his way to becoming drunk. Arthur smiled and stood, making his way over to the cute stranger, wobbling slightly as he did so.

The man looked up, smiling when Arthur sat down next to him. Arthur smiled back. This was clearly going well.

''Hello there.'' He greeted, his voice slurring slightly due to the alcohol he'd just consumed.

''Hey, cutie.'' The man replied, his smile widening slightly. His hazel eyes glinted in an almost predatory way as his gaze travelled over Arthur's body.

Arthur, blushing slightly, studied the man's face, allowing his smile to widen as he took in the other's features. If all went well, he would be having quite the night.

''How about you and I get out of here?'' The man continued, leaning forward slightly. Arthur nodded and stood. The man followed suit, wobbling a bit upon leaving his seat. However, he was sober enough to grab Arthur's hand and drag him out of the pub.

The two hurried down the street, giggling at absolutely nothing. After a couple of minutes of wandering in search of a private place, the two located a run-down motel that was known for the amount of sexual activity that went on inside. The man pulled Arthur inside and headed to the front desk, leaning against it. The fellow behind the desk raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask questions. He simply handed the man leaning against the desk a key.

''Will you be paying by the hour or for the night?'' He asked, obviously already bored with the new arrivals.

The man took the key and grinned. ''The night. I'll pay ya in the morning.'' He replied, grabbing Arthur's arm. He pulled Arthur down the hallway, towards the room number indicated on the key. He opened the door and pulled Arthur inside, locking the door behind them.

Arthur sat on the bed, looking around the room. The curtains were made out of a brown fabric that looked too thin to actually do much good as a curtain. The carpet was a pale, tannish color, and dust rose up in clouds every time either of the men took a step. There was an old rocking chair in the corner that was covered in a white substance that Arthur didn't care to name. The bed itself was two mattresses stacked on top of one another. There was a dirty, stained white sheet pulled over the top mattress and a ratty quilt was spread over the sheet. There were no pillows. All in all, it was a shit hole, but it was a place that no one would suspect Arthur of going to, therefore privacy from anyone he knew was guaranteed.

Arthur turned his attention back to the cute male he'd found at the pub, and was surprised to find that the fellow was standing directly in front of them. He blinked in surprise. When had the man moved? That thought soon left his mind when the man pushed him down and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. Arthur moaned and tilted his head back, closing his eyes when the man slipped his hands under his shirt.

''What's your name? My name is Jaiden.'' Jaiden purred, playing with one of Arthur's nipples while the other hand stroked Arthur's side.

Arthur moaned softly, squirming around just a bit. ''A-Arthur…'' He managed, opening his eyes to gaze up at Jaiden. Jaiden simply smiled and leaned down, his lips inches away from Arthur's ear.

''Well, _Arthur_, I'm going to show you a _great_ time, okay?'' He whispered huskily before planting a kiss on Arthur's jaw. Arthur could only nod as Jaiden began kissing down his jaw and neck. Jaiden stopped, smirking against Arthur's skin. He enjoyed being in control, and this little English dude was the perfect uke. Arthur pouted and tried to look down at Jaiden. However, he soon lost the ability to think coherent thoughts when Jaiden began sucking on a weak spot on Arthur's neck. Arthur whimpered in pleasure and arched against Jaiden, tangling his fingers in Jaiden's silky, black hair. Jaiden pulled away gently and sat up. Arthur pouted once again, but soon forgot why he'd been pouting in the first place when Jaiden pulled his shirt off. Shivering slightly, he gazed up at Jaiden shyly. Jaiden smiled reassuringly and bent down, slowly kissing his way down Arthur's chest. Arthur squirmed, whimpering as his trousers grew tighter. Jaiden looked up when he reached the waistband of Arthur's trousers. He smiled innocently and gently squeezed the bulge. Arthur tilted his head back and groaned. Jaiden slowly smirked and pulled Arthur's pants down. His underwear soon followed. Arthur gasped when the chilly air hit his hardened member. Jaiden smiled sweetly and adjusted Arthur's legs before sliding down, his knees hitting the dusty floor, and kissing the tip of Arthur's member. Arthur moaned and grabbed the quilt beneath him, his fingertips digging into the dusty fabric. Jaiden took more of Arthur's member in, sucking lightly while he stroked the inside of Arthur's thighs. Arthur whimpered, closing his eyes as his breathing quickened. Jaiden soon took Arthur's member in his mouth, sucking and running his tongue along the shaft. Arthur panted, biting his lip as he held back a scream of pleasure. He was close…very close, and Jaiden seemed to realize this because he suddenly took Arthur in as far as he could, the muscles of his throat contracting as he sucked on Arthur's member. Arthur finally let out the scream he'd been holding in and arched his back, releasing into Jaiden's mouth. Jaiden eagerly swallowed and pulled away, wiping his mouth. Arthur watched him, panting heavily.

''Did that feel good?'' Jaiden asked, licking some cum off of his hand. Arthur watched his pink tongue for a moment before he realized he had yet to answer Jaiden's question. He nodded weakly, trying to convey with his eyes that he needed _more_. He was starting to remember…

Jaiden smiled slyly and slowly, _teasingly_, stripped in front of Arthur. Arthur didn't feel any sort of emotional attraction toward Jaiden, but he needed to forget. Besides, his body seemed just fine with what was happening.

After Jaiden had removed the last article of clothing from his body, he climbed back onto the bed, adjusting Arthur's legs once again before stroking Arthur's member, which was already hard again. Arthur whimpered and looked at Jaiden pleadingly. Jaiden smiled and slipped his own hard member inside Arthur. Arthur screamed and arched his back, forgetting the mental pain as the physical pain took over. This wasn't his first time with another man, but he was usually prepared before they actually started having sex with him! He whimpered, tears running down his cheeks, as Jaiden thrust in and out roughly, moaning in pleasure. Arthur squirmed, trying to find a more comfortable positon, but Jaiden pinned him down, bending over so his face was inches from Arthur's.

''Where are ya going, sexy?'' He slurred, kissing Arthur sloppily. Arthur kissed back, trying to focus on this rather than the pain he was experiencing in his lower half.

Finally, after a painful thirty minutes, Arthur reached his climax, releasing all over Jaiden's stomach. After a few more thrusts, which caused Arthur to whimper, Jaiden reached his climax and released, filling Arthur with his cum. Jaiden pulled out and collapsed next to Arthur, panting heavily. He grinned at Arthur, as if what he had just done was pleasurable to Arthur!

''I told ya I'd show you a good time, didn't I?'' Jaiden asked, his voice thick with sleep.

Arthur, who did not have the heart to tell Jaiden that the sex had been rather painful, nodded, smiling slightly. ''Yes, thank you.'' He replied, scooting away ever-so-slightly from Jaiden, getting as comfy as possible, his thighs screaming in protest. Jaiden, too tipsy and sleepy to notice Arthur's movements, fell asleep immediately. Arthur sighed. The sex _had _helped him forget the pain for a little while, but now it was back…and it seemed to be stronger than ever. And to top it all off, his lower half felt like it had been hit by a truck. He slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, hissing in pain as his lower half moved with him. He eventually managed to stand, using the wall as support as he shakily made his way around the room, collecting his clothes. After he was dressed, he left a note for Jaiden, thanking him for a good time, even though it hadn't been that great, and left the room.

He made his way out of the hotel, ignoring the curious looks as he limped through the lobby and outside. So everyone knew he preferred men. What was the point in trying to hide it? It wouldn't be a big deal for much longer, anyway.

He hailed a taxi, in too much pain to walk, and painfully sat inside, giving the cabbie directions to his mansion. He leaned back in the seat, closing his eyes. He knew the cabbie was curious; after all, he had just left a motel that was known for vast amounts of sexual activity, and he was limping. It wasn't that difficult to put the pieces together, really.

Following the awkward (for the cabbie, anyway) hour long drive, the cabbie pulled up in front of Arthur's mansion. After thanking him and paying twice as much as he'd been charged, he got out of the taxi and painfully made his way up the stairs and inside.

He slowly headed up to the second floor, wanting nothing more than to curl up in his four poster bed and fall asleep. This day had been nothing but pain and sadness, just like every other day. Sleep was honestly the best option at the moment.

He entered his room, closing the door behind him. Even though he lived alone, he still preferred the privacy. He slowly padded across the room and opened the old, oak wardrobe, rummaging through it for his pajamas. Grabbing them, he studied the plain, white, cotton before pulling them on, discarding his old clothes into the hamper. He curled up on his bed and, for the first time that day, allowed himself to cry freely. He was just so sick of being alone…tired of being treated like a freak. Suddenly the tears ceased to fall down his cheeks as he recalled his plan from earlier. Sitting up, he looked around, searching his room for something, anything, that would help him put his plan into action. There was absolutely _nothing_ that would help him in his conquest for revenge. Furious he kicked the covers off and, ignoring the pain in his lower half, stormed out of his room, heading for the basement. There had to be _something _useful in there.

He took the stairs two at a time and hurried towards the door that led to his basement. He opened the door, not, for once, bothered by the creaking of the old door. His home was quite nice, but it appeared that the builders hadn't put as much effort into the basement as they had into the rest of the mansion. There wasn't much he could do, however, so he would have to make do.

He carefully made his way down the metal stairs, looking around the dark and dirty place he dared to call the basement. The light was at the foot of the stairs for whatever bizarre and rather irritating reason, so Arthur had to use the railing to prevent himself from falling down the stairs.

Once he had reached the bottom of the stairs, he reached up and pulled the cord, flooding the grey room with a soft yellow light. He looked around, his green eyes studying each and every box for something useful. Anything would be helpful at this point. Even a bit of rope would do the trick. His eyes fell onto an old crate that had been shoved behind everything else. Curious, he made his way towards it, unable to remember where it had come from.

He kneeled down in front of the crate and, noting that it did not have a lid, began to rummage through the contents. Frowning, he picked up an old pistol. So that was why the crate had been hidden behind the other contents of the room. It was a crate full of reminders of every sin he'd ever committed. Guns that had helped him kill others in wars; pieces of cloth that signified various groups he'd been in; objects wrapped in pieces of black cloth; pictures of lands that seemed so far away now. He had hidden it all away and had done his best to become a new man and forget the crimes of his past. However, it appeared that one could not run away from the past. With a sigh, he began to go through the items in the crate again. He knew that if there was anything useful in his basement, it would be in this crate.

After a few minutes of searching, Arthur located some rope and a couple of old pistols. It wasn't the grand torture scene he had been planning, but it was better than nothing. Revenge was revenge, after all. Arthur grabbed the rope and pistols and head back upstairs, wondering how he would put this plan into action. He couldn't just storm into everyone's houses. That would only lead to him spending the next so many years in prison. No, there had to be another, more subtle way to go about this.

As he headed back to his bedroom, in search of a knapsack, a thought occurred to him. Alfred had, for some unfathomable reason, sent him an invitation to his yearly Christmas party. The invitation _had _come with a threat, but it was an invitation nonetheless, and it was the perfect way to allow everyone to feel his wrath. He smiled a most savage smile and quickened his pace.

He entered his room, grabbing the knapsack that he had carelessly tossed into the corner of his room a few days ago. He placed the rope and pistols into the knapsack and headed back downstairs, certain he could drive himself this time. It was rather late, but Alfred's parties always went on till the early hours of the morning. This normally infuriated Arthur, as he, like a normal person, enjoyed sleeping during those hours, but this time, it would assist him in his mission.

He hurried down the driveway and opened the door to his small, yet (he thought, anyway) stylish, Maybach 57. Climbing inside, he set the bag in the passenger seat and started the vehicle. It wasn't particularly warm –it was nearly one in the morning, after all, and Christmas Eve- so Arthur turned up the heat and backed out of the driveway, whistling ''A Gorey Demise'' by Creature Feature as he drove towards Alfred's house.

Arthur parked a few blocks away from Alfred's home, behind a long line of various other vehicles. He grabbed the knapsack, slinging it over one shoulder, and got out of his car. He quickly walked down the sidewalk, noting that the punk Christmas music was quite audible, even from this distance. Biting his lip, –he wasn't all that fond of this type of music, but he didn't really have a choice in the matter- he knocked on the door, not sure that his knocking would be heard over the music that was clearly being blasted from every stereo in the vicinity.

However, he heard someone that sounded suspiciously like Alfred ask the others if anyone was missing. To Arthur's dismay, everyone was quite certain that all the guests were in attendance. He quickly wiped the tears that had begun to cascade down his cheeks and turned, slowly walking down the small front path. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea, after all…

He heard the front door open and quickened his pace, not wanting to embarrass himself any further.

''Hey, Iggy! Oops, sorry! Arthur, dude, where are you going?'' Alfred called, confused, yet delighted, by Arthur's sudden appearance at his Christmas party. ''Aren't ya gonna come inside?''

Arthur turned slowly and, looking down at his feet, shrugged. He could barely admit it to himself, but he'd had the biggest crush on Alfred for years now. Every time he gazed into those lovely blue eyes, he felt like he was going to fall over. The fact that Alfred had been his younger brother didn't change the way he felt about the man. Alfred _had _claimed his independence from Arthur all those years ago, so he wasn't sure if it really counted at this point. Nevertheless, he couldn't look Alfred in the eye, not tonight. Alfred would realize something was wrong, even if he hadn't really paid much attention to Arthur lately. Arthur had to get this out of his system…had to show the others the pain they had been inflicting on him all this years, and this was the only way.

Alfred hesitantly walked towards Arthur, unsure of his intentions. Iggy had been acting odd lately, and it was breaking Alfred's heart, because the man he loved was so obviously in pain and Alfred didn't know how to make it better. Maybe Arthur showing up at the Christmas party was a good thing. It might just be the opportunity Alfred had been looking for.

Arthur looked up for a brief moment, then looked back down, terrified that Alfred had seen the desperate, broken look in his eyes. He knew Alfred was waiting for an answer, but Arthur had begun to doubt himself. What if this wasn't the best idea? What if it backfired? Then everything would go to hell, and he wouldn't be able to find a way out. There was one other way…but he didn't know if he had the guts to go through with it…

''Yeah,'' He muttered, then raised his voice ever-so-slightly, ''Yes, I'll come inside in a moment. Thank you for the invitation.'' Alfred nodded, then turned and went back inside, looking over his shoulder at the forsaken man standing in his front yard. Arthur followed, doing his best to keep his distance from Alfred. Tonight of all nights would _not _be a good night to confess his love.

Alfred gestured to the coat rack, which was already overflowing with coats and scarves, and watched as Arthur hung up his coat, his gaze shifting to the backpack Arthur was carrying.

''You can hang up your backpack, too, dude. No one will mess with it.'' Alfred said, arching an eyebrow when Arthur tightened his grip on the strap.

''No, I'd rather keep it with me, thank you.'' Arthur murmured, kicking off his combat boots and placing them carefully next to the other shoes. Alfred took a deep breath, aware that this might be his only chance to get Arthur to talk about what was going on. He walked forward, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur stiffened, but didn't look up.

''Dude,'' Alfred said quietly, which was very bizarre for the American Nation, ''what's going on? You've been acting weird lately.''

Arthur laughed bitterly. He couldn't help it. Now Alfred cared? _Now_? He was about to tie everyone up and shoot them, and now Alfred was bothered to question his odd behavior? Alfred gently turned Arthur around so he was facing him, even if the man wouldn't look him in the eye.

''Arthur,'' Alfred whispered, surprising Arthur. Alfred hardly ever used his proper name, and the pain was evident in the other country's voice, though Arthur could not fathom why Alfred would be in pain.

''I'm fine, Alfred. I've just been a little stressed lately, that's all. There's no need to be worried, all right?'' Arthur said, forcing himself to look Arthur in the eye for a moment, quickly looking down afterwards. But a moment was all Alfred needed. He grabbed Arthur's face in his hands, doing his best to be gentle, and forced Arthur to look him in the eyes. There it was. The look of someone who was certain he had lost everything and had absolutely nothing else to lose. Someone who was on the verge of doing something drastic.

''Arthur, you're not all right. What's wrong?'' Alfred asked, studying Arthur's face desperately.

Alfred plastered a fake smile on his face, doing his best to appear innocent. Alfred scrutinized Arthur, his blue eyes wide with worry, which Arthur didn't understand. Why would Alfred be worried? Not only had he essentially ignored Arthur for the past few months, he had, perhaps unknowingly, joined the others in tormenting Arthur. And now he wanted to help? What sick and twisted universe was Arthur living in?

Alfred stared at him, waiting for a response. Arthur pulled away and looked down, digging his fingernails into his palms as he did his best to not cry. That would simply not do. ''I've just…been having a rough time with things, okay? It's not a big deal….''

Alfred sighed, shaking his head. ''If it's not a big deal, why do you like you've lost everything and have nothing left to gain, huh? I'm the hero, dude, so it's my job to help people!''

Arthur winced. So this sudden show of concern hadn't been what Arthur had naively hoped it was…a show of intimate affection. Alfred simply thought he was helping another helpless citizen. Arthur swallowed past the lump in his throat. ''I'll tell you what's going on, all right? Can you get a drink, though? Please? I was walking around earlier and I didn't stop to get water or anything…''

Alfred immediately brightened, glad Arthur was finally accepting his help. He skipped off to the kitchen, looking over his shoulder so he could grin at Arthur. ''No problem! I'm the hero!'' He cried joyfully as he disappeared into the kitchen. Arthur sighed. It hurt lying to Alfred like this, it really did. After all, he had raised him, and he loved the man! He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He couldn't think about those things. He had to focus on the task at hand. He straightened and headed towards the source of the music: the living room. He faltered a few feet away from the archway that led to the living room. Could he really do this? Was he really about to tie up everyone in that room and shoot them? He pulled a pistol out of the knapsack, his green eyes narrowing. They deserved what was coming to them. Arthur was done with being tormented and ignored. Done.

He stormed into the living room, shooting three bullets into the air. The other Nations jumped and looked at Arthur, their eyes widening in fear and shock.

''A-Arthur, what are you doing?'' Tino asked, cradling his swollen tummy. Berwald wrapped an arm around Tino's shoulders, pulling him close.

Arthur looked around the room, a crazy look entering his eyes. These people had made his life hell, and they were questioning his actions? He laughed and shot another bullet into the air, narrowly missing the glass chandelier.

''You really want to question what I'm doing, do you?'' Arthur asked, giggling in what he was sure was a most insane manner. ''Well, I shall tell you, but first…'' He aimed the pistol at each person, then pointed at a corner. ''Please go stand in that corner, and sit down.''

He watched as the other Nations slowly made their way to the corner, narrowing his eyes every time someone dared to glance over their shoulder. Soon everyone was seated, Tino had been assisted by Berwald, and each person –or Nation- was gazing at Arthur fearfully.

''Now then, I suppose I should tell you why I plan on killing each and every one of you.'' Arthur murmured, moving so he was standing in front of the group of cowering countries. ''It's quite simple, really. I am rather sick and tired of being ignored…of being tormented by everyone else. You all look at me like I'm insane, and it's just because I'm a little different. But everyone else is allowed to have odd hobbies and interests! Why not _me_?!'' Arthur stared at the huddled Nations, a crazed look in his eyes. He was panting slightly. ''And if you assholes aren't treating me like I'm a repulsive freak, you're simply ignoring me! What did I ever do to any of you? I've fought in wars, but I'm not the only one! Others have gotten in petty arguments! What have I done that was so much worse than anything others have done?!'' He screamed, his eyes now wide with fury. The other Nations flinched, too afraid to do much more than whimper and squeak. Arthur pulled the trigger yet again, the bullet hitting the wall just above Antonio's head. The normally cheerful Nation stiffened and bit his lip, looking up slowly, only to see the bullet had barely missed him.

Arthur smiled, the grin sadistic, yet cheerful. It twisted his face into an unrecognizable mask. Whistling some merry Christmas tune, he bent down and removed the rope from the knapsack. Strangely enough, it was just enough to tie up each of the Nations cowering before him. It must've been from his pirating days. He continued whistling as he tied everyone up. For some reason, he took care not to touch Tino's pregnant belly. He knew he was going to shoot Tino, but he couldn't bear to hurt the unborn life more than he had to.

Once everyone was tied up, and Arthur was sure they had no hope whatsoever of getting away, he pulled the pistol from the back of his trousers and aimed it at Feliciano. The little Italian Nation stared at him, his brown eyes regarding Arthur with a curious expression.

''Why are you being so mean, Mr. Kirkland?'' He asked, tilting his head cutely. Ludwig pulled him closer, glaring at Arthur.

Arthur's grip on the pistol loosened slightly as he stared at Feliciano. The most cowardly Nation he knew was staring at a man with a gun without fear…only curiosity and a little hurt. He adjusted his grip on the pistol and scowled at Feliciano.

''Why? _Why_? I'm being, as you put it, so mean, because I want everyone in this room to feel the pain I've been feeling! Now kindly keep your mouth shut!''

Tino looked at Arthur, hiding his large belly. ''A-Arthur, I know you're upset, but this isn't going to make you feel better.''

Arthur aimed the pistol at him, his scowl firmly set in place. ''Oh, really? And what do you propose is the proper way to handle my pain?''

Ludwig scoffed and rolled his eyes. ''Well, it may make you feel better for a few moments, but that's all it will be, a few moments. Afterwards, you will feel such guilt, guilt you can't possibly hope to cope with. Arthur, we all know you don't really want to shoot us. Now, why don't you put the gun down and untie us? We can help you.''

Arthur pointed the pistol at Ludwig, but his hand was shaking. He wanted to shoot these cruel people, right? He wanted them to feel the agony he'd been forced to deal with, didn't he? Before he could think it through any further, he heard the one voice he'd been hoping he wouldn't have to hear again that night.

''_Arthur_?! Dude, what the hell?!'' Alfred exclaimed, dropping the glass of water he'd been holding. It shattered, soaking his feet and parts of his jeans, but he didn't notice. All he could do was stare at Arthur, unable to believe the man he loved would do such a thing.

''I…I'm,'' Arthur stuttered, dropping the pistol. He fell to his knees and put his face into his hands, sobbing. ''I just…I didn't know what to do! I was sick of everyone else treating like I was nothing more than a piece of rubbish! I'm still tired of it, but now…'' He trailed off, picking up the pistol. ''Now I know how to make the pain go away…'' He murmured, placing the muzzle of the pistol against his temple, moving his finger to the trigger.

''Arthur, no!'' Alfred cried, dashing forward. There was a loud bang, and the other Nations, even the strongest, turned away, cringing. Kiku was the first to look over. His eyes widened in shock as he gazed at the scene before him.

Alfred was cradling a whimpering Arthur in his arms, whispering soothingly as he carefully lifted the bleeding Nation onto the couch. Kiku stared at the blood running down Arthur's left arm. How had Alfred gotten there so quickly?

Alfred went over to the other Nations and quickly untied them before returning to Arthur's side. The others stood, Tino leaning against Berwald, and stared at the broken English Nation. Now that Arthur wasn't pointing a gun at them, they could see him for what he really was: a broken Nation who was clearly sick of living. Ludwig sighed. He couldn't stay upset with Arthur, because he understand the pain the man was going through. Although he had felt those things for different reasons, he still understood the black abyss Arthur had fallen into, so he had sympathy for the smaller Nation.

''Ludwig, can you get the first-aid kit, please?'' Alfred asked, his normally buoyant tone full of pain and worry. Ludwig nodded and went into the bathroom that was just down the hall.

Arthur closed his eyes, his breathing shallow. ''Why did…you save me, Arthur? I…deserve to...'' He hissed in pain.

''Die?'' Alfred finished, squeezing Arthur's right hand. ''Well, that's not true, Iggy. You did make a mistake, but the best people in the world do horrible things. You do deserve to live. You just need help, and I'm the one who's going to help you.''

Arthur opened his eyes, the green orbs mere slits. ''Because you're the hero?'' He asked weakly, closing his eyes again.

Alfred shook his head, even though he knew Arthur couldn't see him. ''No. I'm going to help you because I love you.''

Arthur's eyes shot open. Ludwig, who had returned with the first-aid kit, nearly dropped the metal container, his eyes widening in shock. Everyone had suspected that Arthur and Alfred had feelings for each other, but no one thought they would ever admit it. Alfred smiled at Arthur, then looked at Ludwig expectantly. Ludwig shook himself from his daze and walked over, carefully placing the kit by Alfred's knees.

''Thank you, Ludwig.'' Alfred said, then turned his attention to everyone in the room. ''There's food in the kitchen. If you guys could go eat and hang out in there for a little while, I'd really appreciate it.''

The other Nations nodded and, as a group, made their way to the kitchen. Arthur sat up weakly, ignoring Alfred's protests.

''If you guys could wait a moment,'' He pleaded, his voice faint. Everyone froze and turned their attention to the bleeding English Nation. Arthur took a deep breath before continuing. ''I want to apologize. I wasn't thinking clearly, and all I could focus on was the pain I was feeling. I never meant to hurt anyone…'' His voice trailed off and he collapsed back onto the couch, closing his eyes.

The Nations huddled together, whispering, then Feliciano broke away and smiled brightly at Arthur. ''We forgive you, Mr. Kirkland! Now get better! Everyone will be sad if you don't!'' After this, the Nations, other than Alfred and Arthur, went into the kitchen, chattering happily. Arthur smiled softly, then winced. He wasn't sure if the wound was serious, but it _hurt_. Alfred kissed his forehead, and Arthur heard the slight creak as Alfred opened the kit.

''Okay, Iggy, this is going to hurt like a bitch, but I need to get the bullet out of your arm, okay?''

Arthur nodded, preparing himself for the physical agony that he was about to endure. ''Alfred, hang on a moment.''

Alfred paused. ''What is it?''

Arthur smiled tiredly. ''You're my hero.''

Alfred smiled. ''I love you, too.''

Nearly two years later, Alfred and a _very _pregnant Arthur were sitting in their new living room, talking with their friends, Ludwig and Feliciano, who was six months pregnant.

''How have you been feeling, Feliciano?'' Alfred asked, wrapping an arm around Arthur, pulling him close. Arthur smiled and snuggled into his husband, rubbing his tummy.

''Oh, I've been feeling just fine, thank you! I've just been craving really funny foods, but the baby also loves pasta! But she likes to mess with my bladder, too…'' Feliciano babbled, putting a hand on his own swollen tummy.

Ludwig laughed softly and kissed the top of his little Italian's head. Arthur's smile widened just a bit as he moved around, trying to find a more comfortable position. His back had been rather sore today…

''Glad to hear you're doing okay, dude!'' Alfred said, smiling brightly. Life had been good. Arthur hadn't had a single relapse since that day. Once he had realized he wasn't in fact alone in the world, he seemed much happier. He and Alfred had gone out for two months, and then Alfred had popped the question, causing a very flustered Arthur to blush. He'd still gotten a yes. Two years later, they were expecting their first child. Life couldn't be better.

Suddenly, Arthur stiffened, clutching his belly and whimpering in pain. Alfred immediately turned his attention to his 'wife'.

''Arthur?'' He asked, worry entering his previously joyful tone.

''B-baby…c-coming…'' Arthur managed, doubling over as the contractions began.

Alfred nodded, trying to hide his own panic. It seemed that he and his beloved would begin a new adventure today…an adventure that included their soon-to-born twins…a boy and a girl.

With Ludwig's help, Alfred helped a sweating and panting Arthur into their truck. After making sure Arthur was as comfortable as he was going to get in the passenger seat and bidding farewell to Ludwig and Feliciano, Alfred hopped into the driver's seat and backed out of the driveway, driving as quickly as he could to the hospital without wrecking the truck.

In the seat next to him, Arthur moaned, closing his eyes. Alfred glanced over at his partner; Arthur's hair was sticking to his forehead, and he was panting heavily, like he was having trouble catching his breath.

_'__He probably is.' _Alfred thought, worry entering his blue eyes as he turned his attention back to the road.

Suddenly, Arthur let out a blood curdling shriek, back arching off the seat. Alfred pulled over quickly and turned to Arthur, unbuckling his seatbelt as he did so.

''Arthur?! Artie baby, where does it hurt?!'' He asked frantically. Arthur turned to look at him, eyes glazed over with pain and reached towards Alfred. Alfred grabbed his hand, gritting his teeth as Arthur squeezed his hand tightly, whimpering. Rubbing Arthur's back soothingly as he doubled over once more, Alfred looked around the truck, hoping to find something that would alleviate his partner's pain. Arthur took a deep breath, relaxing for a moment.

''Artie?'' Alfred questioned, arching an eyebrow, still worried. Arthur took another deep breath, rubbing his belly.

''I…can I...'' He closed his eyes, grip tightening on Alfred's hand once again. ''Can I lay down?'' He managed, looking at Alfred pleadingly. Alfred nodded, jumping out of the truck. He ran over to Arthur's side and opened the door, carefully helping his pregnant lover out of the truck and into the backseat. Arthur whimpered and leaned against Alfred. Once Arthur was stretched out on the backseat, Alfred got back into the driver's seat and resumed his drive to the hospital.

''Iggy, how are ya doin'?'' Alfred asked, glancing in the rearview mirror, worried as it had been rather quiet for a bit. Arthur was laying on his side, clearly doing his best to not scream or cry. He looked at Alfred and shook his head, curling up in a ball. Alfred bit his lip and did his best to go faster, but he wasn't sure if it would do any good. There wasn't too much traffic on the roads, but they weren't even halfway to the hospital yet. It would take another forty minutes to get there, and Alfred didn't know how time was left before the twins arrived.

''Alfred! ALFRED STOP!'' Arthur screamed as he dug his nails into the seat. Alfred slammed on the brakes, nearly crashing into the car in front of them. After cussing the stupid asshole out for driving too slow, he pulled over and turned around to look at Arthur.

''Baby, what's the matter?!'' He asked, panicking. Arthur, struggling to sit up, screamed again, clutching his belly. Alfred unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed into the backseat, kneeling down beside Arthur. Whimpering, Arthur squirmed around, trying to get comfortable. Alfred helped him sit up, kissing his forehead as he did so. Arthur curled up against his lover and looked at him, silently begging for comfort. Alfred wrapped an arm around Arthur's shoulder and rubbed his belly with the other hand. Arthur leaned into him, closing his eyes as he let out another shriek. Wincing, Alfred squeezed his partner's hand.

''Babe, please tell me where it hurts.'' Alfred murmured, looking at Arthur worriedly. Arthur bent over, trying to catch his breath. Alfred sat in a dazed sort of panic while he waited for Arthur to answer him.

''T-twins…coming n-now…'' Arthur whined, looking at Alfred, his green eyes wide, terrified, and full of tears. Alfred froze, then nodded, reminding himself that he was the hero, and right now, Iggy needed a hero.

''Okay, Iggy, let's get you as comfy as we can, okay?'' Alfred murmured, helping Arthur into a more comfortable birthing position. Arthur whimpered and clung to Alfred, squeezing him a _bit _too tight. Alfred waited until the contraction had passed before moving a bit to the side, pulling Arthur's pants down. Throwing Arthur's pants and underwear in the passenger seat, Alfred, turning back to Arthur, realized that the twins were indeed about to be born. Arthur was crowning, head tilted back as he whimpered.

''A-Alfred…c-can I p-please move? It h-hurts l-laying down like t-this…'' Arthur whimpered. Alfred nodded.

''Of course, baby. What would work better?'' He asked gently. Arthur gestured at the floor weakly.

''K-kneeling down…'' He mumbled, gasping in pain as another contraction hit him. Pain was coursing through every vein in his body, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in Alfred's lap and cry. He had known that giving birth would cause him to experience unbearable pain, but he hadn't expected it to feel like he was being torn in half. Sobbing, he cried out in pain as Alfred helped him kneel down on the truck floor. Laying his head down on the truck seat, he screamed as another contraction hit his aching body. This one felt different…stronger…

''H-have to…have to push!'' He cried, arching his back as the urge to push grew stronger. Alfred rubbed his back, positioning himself so he could catch the first twin.

''Okay, when you feel the next contraction, push as hard as you can, okay, Iggy?'' Alfred instructed. Arthur could only nod weakly, tears pouring down his cheeks. When he began to feel the next contraction, he pushed as hard as he could, screaming in agony. Alfred rubbed his back soothingly before moving his hand back to catch the first twin. After a few more agonizing pushes, the first twin was born, but something was horribly wrong…

''Alfred?'' Arthur asked, his voice barely audible, trying to get some rest before the second twin was born. Something felt…off. It was silent; the baby wasn't crying. ''Alfred, what's wrong?''

''Nothing. Everything's just fine, okay?'' Alfred replied, his voice tinged with panic. The baby wasn't breathing. Arthur turned to look at him, then whimpered as the contractions started up again. Alfred quickly wrapped the first baby in his jacket and prepared to catch the second. Luckily the second twin came quicker than the first, and a few moments later, Arthur was curled up on the back seat, watching Alfred, an odd look in his emerald green eyes. Alfred, busy trying to get their twins to cry, to breathe, didn't notice as the light slowly faded from Arthur's eyes. But it soon became clear that the twins had died before ever leaving the womb. Alfred looked at Arthur, preparing to tell him the god awful news as tears appeared in his eyes. Arthur shook his head and covered his face with his hands. Alfred sighed and reached over, intending to hug Arthur. But then Arthur did something that felt like a blow to Alfred's heart.

''DON'T TOUCH ME! IT'S MY FAULT!'' Arthur screeched, pushing Alfred away. Alfred gazed at his lover, heartbroken and worried.

''Arthur-'' He began, but Arthur only shook his head and pulled his pants back on. Not looking at the twins or Alfred, he climbed into the passenger seat. Alfred, crying silently, covered both twins with his jacket and climbed into the driver's seat.

''Arthur, we're going to the hospital. We need to make sure there aren't any complications.'' Alfred said quietly, turning the key in the ignition. Arthur shook his head violently and yanked the keys out of the ignition, throwing them on the floor.

''I don't want to go to the hospital!'' He snapped, opening the door. Before Alfred could fully comprehend what was going on, Arthur was out of the truck and running down a dirt path. Letting out a string of curses that would make any sailor cringe, Alfred got out of the truck and ran after Arthur, doing his best to catch up with the Englishman.

''Arthur! Iggy, wait up!'' He called, running as quickly as he could.

Ignoring his husband's pleas for him to slow down, Arthur ran down a small side path and collapsed against a tree, sobs racking his body. He had lost the twins. He had killed his and Alfred's babies, and there was no way to make it better. He had ruined both their lives in the space of two hours, and he knew that Alfred, his dear loving Alfred, would never be able to forgive him.

''I'm sorry, Alfred. I'm so, so sorry.'' He whispered, choking back tears. He knew what he had done was reprehensible, and assumed that Alfred was chasing after him so he could make Arthur hurt as much as he had hurt him, and Arthur didn't blame him one bit. Pulling a small pocketknife out of his pocket, –he always kept it there in case of emergencies- he rolled up his pant leg and began slashing at his life, laughing as he did so. Pain. It was such a trivial thing. What did it matter if he lost feeling in his leg? Who cared if he lost too much blood? Nothing mattered anymore. Giggling, he cut into his leg, relishing the feeling as the blade left a deep cut just below his knee. All of a sudden, a shriek pierced the air as the pocketknife was ripped from his numb fingers. Looking up angrily, he saw Alfred gazing at him in shock.

''Give that back!'' He yelled, glaring at the taller man. Alfred threw the bloody pocketknife aside and kneeled down in front of Arthur, shaking him.

''WHAT THE HELL WERE YA THINKING?! DO YOU THINK I WANT TO LOSE EVERY PERSON I LOVE IN ONE NIGHT? WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL WERE YA THINKING, SHREDDING YOUR LEG LIKE THAT?'' Alfred screamed, tears pouring down his lovely face. Arthur stared at him in shock. Did Alfred really love him? No…that couldn't be right. Alfred had to be furious with him. Shaking his head, he looked down and started sobbing again.

''You're lying!'' He wailed, shoving Alfred away. ''You hate me for killing our babies! You can't possibly love me anymore!''

Alfred gazed at him, then pulled Arthur into his arms. ''Baby, do you really think that I feel that way?'' Arthur nodded and hid his face in Alfred's shirt. Alfred pulled him into his lap and rocked Arthur back and forth soothingly. ''You are so mistaken, Iggy. I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world, and I couldn't bear to lose you. I _am _upset that the twins didn't make it, but it was just an unfortunate moment in our lives, and nothing you did caused their death.''

''But I was carrying them! I must have done _something _to harm him!'' Arthur muttered, resting his head on Alfred's chest.

''Sweetheart, please stop saying that. You didn't do anything to our twins. I can't tell you what cruel force did this, but it certainly wasn't you.'' Alfred murmured, placing Arthur on the ground. Arthur gazed at him, arching an eyebrow. Was Alfred about to leave him? Nothing really made sense at the moment, so he couldn't be sure that wasn't the case. Alfred pulled his shirt off and began tearing it into strips, surprising Arthur. So Alfred actually did love him, even after what he had done to their family... Tying the strips around Arthur's leg, Alfred looked at his lover and gave him a small smile. Arthur did his best to smile back, but he just couldn't manage it. Everything just hurt so much. What had he done to deserve this? Alfred picked him up, cradling the smaller man against his chest.

''Alfred, aren't you upset with me?'' Arthur mumbled, dozing off.

''Of course not. I love you.'' Alfred replied, kissing the Brit's forehead. ''Besides, I'm still your hero, right?''

Arthur nodded sleepily. ''You'll always be my hero.''

**I apologize for any tears you may have shed, but no hurting me. I ****_did_**** warn you about the angst. Anywho, I'll have my other story updated in the next couple of days for anyone who cares. By the way, this was just a really long one-shot. Bye, bye!**


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